Wee Hours in the Morn'

If you had said Ligeia Canterbury had a sleeping problem, she would cover her mouth with the back of her hand to silence the laughter. It was no problem for her. She slept, certainly. For relatively brief respites. Somehow she had found out that elusive means to pull more productive hours out of the ether of the night. Besides, it was a very Prefect-ly occupation to keep watch over the common room.

A tidbit she should share with Sasha at some point. Spirits knew the boy worked himself to the bone. But Sasha was seemingly not around tonight, and the well being of her fellows was out of Ligeia's mind as she prepared for the Hogwarts Players meeting later that weekend, there was still so much to do.[1]

She had awoken early, changed out of her nightgown, and sat on a chaise lounge under the light of a jar'd bluebell flame. Bright enough for her to see as she toiled at the re-stitching of makeshift costumes she had rounded up. The parchments were prepared, the flyers updated, and an elusive space for the meeting tracked down.

In the nightly silence there was the steady click of her needles, along with the sharper sounds of something else clicking about, and a vague muttering.

1.	aforementioned meeting

Evie Grimlish was finally on the mend, though minor complications related to the chest cold she'd been suffering from for the majority of the previous week were still cropping up here and there. The day before, shortly before bed, she'd received a package from home containing a cruelty free (and, in fact, entirely animal product free) container of herbal chest balm which, in addition to doing wonders for congestion, had the lovely added bonus of putting her to sleep in seconds flat. Now, Evie was already quite the sound sleeper, and possessed the gift of being able to fall asleep nearly anywhere, regardless of the conditions. With the addition of the valerian-laced chest balm she may as well have been in a coma while she slumbered! The second she started inhaling the pungent scent of the thick balm she began to swoon. That was fine with Evie, since it did make her feel better, and she needed the sleep – but, as mum had instructed, it was best to save it until she was actually about to go to bed for the night. She didn't want to go to bed for the night, though! She wanted to stay up forever and read! What else were weekends for? It was difficult to decide when she was really ready for bed, however, because how many nights had she been subject to the 'just-one-more-chapter' effect? It was better just to leave dormitory entirely, with the container of chest balm safe on the bureau.

Dressed in one of her ankle-length floral nightgowns, Evie crept down the stairs and into the common room, the book she was currently courting held under her arm. She planned to curl up and read by the light of the fire, but she was distracted before she could get that far. Normally very little could keep her from reading when that was what she set her mind to doing, but she was a magnet for pretty clothing, and she couldn't help but spot her dormmate, fully clothed, working on some ornate looking pieces by the light of her own flame. Always catlike, Evie couldn't resist the urge to creep toward the thing that had caught her fancy, stalking through the dark common room and toward the costumes.

“Hello, Ligeia,” she greeted softly, taking in the pale girl's work with an expression that likely passed for passive stoicism but, in reality, was pointed interest. Compared to some of her peers, Evie did dress somewhat eccentrically, so she didn't immediately identify the garments as costume pieces. “You seem to be working late,” she remarked, wanting to show interest in the other girl's task without prying. “I was going to read but you caught my attention.” She cradled the hardcover book against her chest, where it served as proof of her intended mission. There was still time to accomplish that task, but curiosity had to be sated first.

Using a spool of red (not the blood red that made up the WL on her dress, a shade lighter) Ligeia stitched the last in a cape, the length of unused thread covering her shoulder and seat as if spun from a drunken spider. She held it out in front of her to check how well she had matched the original pattern.

"Dear Evelyn!" she greeted to her fellow Ravenclaw. "Yes, there is much I have been preparing for." Lowever the garmet, a sweep of one hand regarded the costumes and notes for the theatre club. "By Sunday I will have revived the Hogwarts Players tradition, as long as we don't do strict pantomimes. Which is fine, as I consider those aren't taxing enough to act in."

“So I imagine these are costumes,” Evie spoke, not loosing any enthusiasm or curiosity now that she realized she wasn't looking at day wear. Every garment ever worn was really just a sort of costume, she thought, and she didn't think there was anything wrong with that. All clothing said something about the person wearing it, which made it valuable in the theatre, as costumes could provide a lot of information about a character at a glance. It was true for characters on the stage, but also for people everywhere. Evelyn was fond of her own princess duds, for example, with their floral patterns and the odd pearly button, and couldn't help but to find herself attracted to anything long and flowing and dramatic - but sensible. If anyone in the world was to benefit from being plucked from an orphanage and submerged in a culture where wearing cloaks and ornate hats was the norm, it was Evie Grimlish. It was hard to deny that the girl had a certain aesthetic that wasn't too far removed from what you might find in a costume shop. Clearing her throat softly to clear it, the interested witch took a seat nearby, perching on the very edge of a sofa cushion. She didn't intend to get too comfortable.

“What will you perform?” she wondered aloud, clearly intrigued by the whole venture. Just the thought of the theatre was enough to send an image of raining corpses flashing through her mind, which made her uneasy. She was a girl who so often went in search of spooky situations, however, as addicted as she was to that primal feeling of pure fear, so she sat with it silently. She'd always liked the theatre, generally, recent experiences notwithstanding. It had been a long time since she'd performed anything herself, since she'd only really ever done so out of necessity, but there was something comforting about a play. Watching plays was like reading books without all of the work.

"Oh, we could perform anything," Ligeia said. "I've recovered a few scripts but doubt that we will engage in serious performance so soon. They'll be useful for acting exercises, getting everyone related to the experience. And others could suggest a play as well. Oh dear."

Ligeia had returned to closing off a stitch but the thread had broken. Though her needle had stopped there was another clicking sound as a multi-legged set of tweezers crawled out from under Ligeia's seat. It began climbing Evelyn's leg like a spider.

Evelyn wasn't much of a joiner. Sometimes Eli was able to convince her to come along to club meetings, and she always did what she could to support her enthusiastic brother, but she very rarely found herself interested in joining anything of her own accord. She'd thought about it, of course. In fact, the dreamy ceramicist had attended the odd art club meeting over the course of her five and a half years at Hogwarts, but she didn't tend to stick around long enough to claim membership. She wasn't good at belonging to things. She may have gotten better with practice, but that remained to be seen. Her lack of experience was likely enough to excuse her from not realizing that people in theatre clubs did anything other than put on plays, or how you could know which costumes to work on if you had no story in mind. She was going to remark that such openness sounded nice, but the 'oh dear' prevented her.

“Hmm?” she asked instead, her eyes glancing up at the snapped bit of thread, noticing the problem. “Oh. Will you have to start over?” Evie had done enough knot work to know the frustration that came with one small error ruining an entire fibers project, even after putting in hours of effort. After a moment she was distracted from her housemate's plight, her attention having been diverted by the feeling of a presence on her leg. Some girls may have shrieked before even daring to look down, but Evie was known for her peculiar passion for insects, so she simply turned her eyes quietly toward the tickle on her leg and smiled softly at the animated set of tweezers.

“Hello,” she greeted the enchanted object, emitting a soft, brief chuckle of amusement, looking far more cheerful than was typical for the stoic faced girl. She'd always had a great deal of tenderness for insects and inanimate objects. She put out a hand so that the tweezers might climb upon it. It crept toward her hand, and over her fingers, tickling the long, pale appendages. Like most many legged insects, the tweezers eventually crawled onto the top of her hand and, as she slowly turned it, it wound up in her palm. She cupped her two palms together, keeping it there. “Are you missing this?” she asked, holding her cupped palms out to Ligeia.

"I won't have to start over. But I shall have to close it off here." The broken thread tangled over her shoulder. Ligeia could attempt a repairing charm but for something so fine and inconsequential as thread it wasn't worth it.

"Ah yes, thank you dear," Ligeia replied, pleased that Evelyn was unlike some of the other girls who would have been shrieking by this point. "I find these kinds of tweezers to be useful for many things. I gifted a pair to Peyton Wentworth for his birthday so it could trim his broom bristles and pluck nose hairs."[1]

The spider-like tweezers crossed to Ligeia's hand with a leap, almost piercing her skin. "This one is overzealous with the eagle tapestry back there."

1.	It's what's in the balloon: Surprise! - Sept 20

Late nights were often the best time for Elijah Grimlish. As a natural astronomer, he preferred the evenings to mornings, and tonight was no exception. His heritage (Elijah was a half-vampire) helped to keep him wide awake during the early hours of the morning, so it was no surprise to hear the other boys in his room grumbling for him to shut the window from the frigid winds raging outside. January was a cold month in Scotland and the nights were even colder, so Elijah reluctantly pulled his telescope back into the room and shut the window with a decided click!

Though he wanted, very much, to continue studying the stars (as venus seemed to be in a most compromising position in relation to Andromeda) he decided it was probably best to get some rest… that is, everyone else was already asleep, so he should be sleeping as well. The Ravenclaw changed from his robes into his footy pajamas (a gift from his grandmother) and crawled into bed… where sleep eluded him.

After only seven(ish) minutes, Eli was already out of the bed and lugging his large telescope down the stairs to the common room. If everyone was asleep, he’d have no issues sticking his telescope out of one of the windows and continuing to chart the stars. Plus, the different vantage point that the new location offered Eli meant a whole new spin on things! Why hadn’t he thought of this years ago?!?

Though he was conscious of his fellow housemates, a heavy telescope made more noise than was appropriate, and by the time he stepped into the common room, he was surprised that he hadn’t woken up half the castle… only two. Then again, the two ladies sitting alone didn’t look like they’d been recently woken at all. One was exceptionally pale and the other was his other half: Evie. She should have been in bed, after that nasty cold she’d had, but there she was just playing with some shiny bug. Leave it to Evie to find the only bug that is also super bright and glinty.

“Ligeia, how are you?” He asked quietly, setting his telescope upon the nearest table and tiptoeing over to where the ladies were sat. He wrapped a protective arm around his sister’s shoulders and gave her a light squeeze.  “You should be sleeping, you know. If you’re not totally well then the sick can come back with a vengeance. We don’t want to risk that,” He said quietly into his twin’s ear.

“They are very nice,” Evelyn told the pale Ravenclaw as she handed back her tweezers, her eyes following as they made their bold jump from one girl's hands to the other's. Evie had only ever used tweezers for beading, and couldn't imagine that having an animated pair would make it any easier to work with the miniscule beads, but she could see how having a pair of pet tweezers might be fun. She had no need for one, though, seeing as she had enough company in the form of the tiny fairies that she bred, which she used to decorate her hair on a regular basis. Even so, there was something comforting to the thought that it was possible to have a sort of pet that couldn't die. It made the whole idea of pet ownership a lot more palatable – which meant a lot coming from the mind of Evie Grimlish, who had never personally owned any sort of pet that couldn't be set free on a guiltless whim.

She was distracted from her musings by the sound of someone galumphing down the stairs like an elephant, and she wasn't surprised to find that the source of all of the racket was her brother. Wherever there was a loud noise, Elijah was sure to follow. It seemed that both of the Grimlish siblings had thought it wise to settle down in the common room to pursue the thing they loved best in the world. Of the two, Elijah was certainly the more experienced night owl – at least publicly. When Evie stayed up late, she was often holed up under the covers with a book so that only those who bothered to check would discover she occasionally had a candle burning until the early hours of the morning.

”You should be sleeping, you know. If you’re not totally well then the sick can come back with a vengeance. We don’t want to risk that.”

“I've been resting,” she insisted, her voice no softer than usual – which meant it was still quiet by most standards. “I haven't been taxing myself, have I?” she asked, looking to Ligeia for confirmation that she'd been behaving since she'd sneaked into the common room with her book. “I'm feeling much better. Mum sent medicine. You should try some if you can't sleep,” she informed her brother, certain that congestion or no congestion, the balm would knock him out like a light. “You, too, if you like. Have you been to bed yet?” she asked her dormmate. She was never quite certain with her.

“Ligeia, how are you?” Elijah Grimlish asked as he crossed to be with his sister.

"Pricked," Ligeia said, unperturbed. The transfer of the tweezers had stabbed one pointy leg into her thumb. She licked the blood off. Though she had been sewing for years it was never a proper session unless blood was drawn and she didn't use thimbles. "How have your mediations to improve your divination been going?"

She recalled a time she had interrupted Elijah attempting a trance in an empty classroom, surrounded by black candles.[1] In her opinion black flame might have helped.

"Been feeling ill?" Ligeia asked, catching what she could of their whispered transference. "You look peaked." Spoken as if 'you look fine' or 'in the pink.' "By no means are you contagious or worth quarantine. I had an internship at St. Mungo's this last summer. Would have been on Bugs and Disease floor had it not been for a filled vacancy, so I was with Plant and Potion Poisonings. There are a intriguing number of similar symptoms between patients of the two wards."

Of course, Ligeia measured a healthy complexion against her own skin tone, where 'in the pink' meant sunburn along with other color variations. Evelyn's paleness was a mark of glamor in her book. "Perfectly revived dear, I've already been to bed tonight. You know, the right amount of staying up will make it easier to sleep in the future, if timed right. Is it more important for you to sleep or force your way through it?"

1.	Divine Musings and Mutterings - Sept 19 '09